Hope of the Magi
by Gamester Cladsl
Summary: For Dewey's Holidays With The Newsies contest. "I'm not an optimist. I'm not a pessimist either. Although I have to dig deep to find it, and I rarely believe it, I have hope. Maybe that's why I couldn't move my eyes away from his face." One-shot. Enjoy.


Disclaimer: Everything from Newsies belongs to Disney. Aimsley Cladsl, Minnie, and anything else not in the movie belongs to your's truly. =)

Hope of the Magi

**Saturday, December 23, 1899.**

His name should be Helen. _I_ would go to war for his face. And his voice. And the way his suspenders hang about his legs, like he doesn't have a care in the world.

I'm in love with him.

I like to think that I knew it from the first moment I saw him; I'm a hopeless romantic that way. The sun seemed to be stronger than normal that day, but maybe it had something to do with the hundreds upon hundreds of people crowded around the stone Greeley, all screaming hot air at the top of their lungs. I was quite uncomfortable. The two leaders disappeared inside the huge building, and it didn't appear like they'd be emerging anytime soon.

I was standing there by myself. None of the girls had come-- they didn't believe anything would happen. Well, neither did I really, but I had hope anyway. Don't take that the wrong way-- I am not an optimist. You can't be one of the girls at the Balleyhill Factory and be an optimist. I'm not a pessimist either. I don't really know what I am in that regard. I just know that, although I have to dig deep to find it and I rarely believe it, I have hope.

Maybe that's why I couldn't move my eyes away from his face.

I first saw him near the big building's entrance, surrounded by boys who were obviously his bosom buddies. Even before the shouts and screams of joy, before we all raised our hands in praise of the handsome leader (and the boy upon his shoulders), before we _won_-- his face said it all. He knew we'd reign victorious. Even when it was believed the cowboy had left for good, he knew that everything was going to be ok, despite the present sadness. Something about his countenance made my breath catch in my throat, and that was it.

I had to meet him.

When the crowd dwindled a bit, I made my way over to his group. The two leaders were with him-- I'd never seen a happier group of people in my life. As I bravely entered their territory, I became painfully aware of the fact that I was one of only two females, and all eyes were on me.

My thoughts were trying to make it to the finish line before my heart. I had no idea what to say to the plethora of smiles and bright eyes. Luckily, one of them took pity on my silence and took me aside. It was _him_.

"Heya there, miss. I'm Mush." He extended his arm and opened his hand invitingly.

Funny. No one had ever bothered to tell me that statues could move.

I accepted his invitation and we shook for what seemed like an eternity. My hand was a ghost in his. I suddenly wished I worked outside as he did.

"I… um… hi… I'm question and I have an Aimsley." I smiled-- until I heard my own words. I gave a huge internal gasp.

"I mean--" I tried to correct it, but he was already laughing.

I must have gotten over that mishap rather quickly because before I knew it, we'd been talking for half an hour. He invited me to go to Irving Hall with him and the newsies to celebrate their strike's victory. I wasn't much for parties, but I also wasn't much for missed opportunities; I happily agreed to tag along.

Mush and I became friends that night. I loved getting to know him. But possibly more than that-- I loved seeing him interact with the other newsies. Just by looking at his face, I could see the incredible love he had for them. They were his family. By the end of the night, I couldn't deny that I began to feel the same.

The girls of Balleyhill are my dear friends, but when work is done, most of them go home. I go downstairs into the basement. I had a family at one time, but they were taken away from me when I was very young. I can barely remember them; all I had left of them was a gold charm I kept in my skirts' pockets, but I don't even have that anymore. It's a pain I'd rather forget anyway. To be honest, it's hard to think about something like that right now, while Mush is walking towards me from the window where he buys his "papes". He's smiling. I swear the sun is shining brighter.

"Heya, Aims." We spit shake. "Why aren't you at the factory? It's too cold to be outside this early in the morning."

"I can live with it for one day. Don't worry, this won't be a daily occurrence." I'm really here to ask him out on a date. A real date. For tomorrow-- Christmas Eve. Last night, I debated just telling him how I feel about him, but I decided it would be easier (and less…creepy) if we go on at least one date first. Now, I'm not so sure.

"I was just wondering if…" I get cut off by a one-eyed lunatic.

"Aimsley! You'se awake this early? What are you doing here?" Unfortunately, Blink's question isn't rhetorical. He's looking at me expectantly. It's kind of cute, but I don't have time to admire his cuteness, I must think of an answer. And quick. I open my mouth to respond, but Mush answers Blink's question before I can.

"Oh, I know."

"You… do?" Really? There's no way. He has no idea…. or does he? Oh no.

"Yeah. The last time you saw the guys was Wednesday. You missed us _so_ much that you just couldn't wait until tomorrow night to see us again! Awww…"

I can't breathe. He's squeezing me so tightly. If this was anyone else, I would be extremely uncomfortable. I'm lost in a dirty white daze. It smells of dirt, ink, and something much sweeter. I have to resist from releasing the most contented sigh I've ever had the urge to even think of. It's just the right temperature here on Isle Mush, and this ray of sunshine is tailor-made just for me. I fit in so nicely. Why can't I experience this everyday of my life? Then I realize…

"What's tomorrow night?" I mumble into my paradise.

He releases his hold on me. I wish I hadn't said anything.

"What was that?" he asks with his confused face. It's the most heart-melting thing I've ever seen. I make a mental note to come up with a good riddle.

"What you said before… what's going on tomorrow night?"

"Christmas Eve, ya bum." Leave it to Racetrack to make a stupid, sarcastic comment, but I laugh anyway. He's too endearing.

"Thanks, Race. Good morning to you, too."

"I do what I can," he says as we spit-shake.

"You don't know about tomorrow night?" I shake my head. "Hm. I could've sworn I told Blink to tell you, since his usual route takes him by the factory." He stares at Kid Blink with mock-scorn.

"You did. And then I told Race to tell her, since he passes the factory on the way to Sheepshead," he says as he and Mush stare at Racetrack.

Race slaps his forehead. "I knew I forget something! Well, I just tell you now. So, tomorrow night, we're having a Christmas Eve Bash, as I so cleverly named it, at Irving Hall. That's when we're doing the gift exchange."

There goes my date. I have to be honest-- I'm relived. But then I wonder: why not wait until December 25th to have a Christmas party, like normal people? Mush is quick to answer my quizzical look.

"We gotta work all Christmas day, and the boys couldn't wait 'til that night to open presents, so we're just doing it Christmas Eve. And Racetrack here wouldn't settle for less than a party. You'll be able to come, right?"

"I don't know." I turn to Racetrack. "Race, you know how I feel about parties," I tease.

"Aimsley. It's me. There's only one reason I suggest parties; just gamble the night away like I do."

"Plus," Mush smiles," you would never dream of missing the gift exchange."

Ah, the gift exchange. This, as Jack informed me, is the newsies' favorite tradition. Each year, Jack draws names to find out who gets who a present. It makes for a less expensive Christmas, and he told me that some of the boys enjoy snooping around and trying to discover who got a present for them. Namely Racetrack and Kid Blink. Why didn't that surprise me? They had to resort to holding the name-choosing ceremony five days before Christmas so as to lessen the chance of Race and Blink ruining it. He asked me if I wanted to join in the fun this year, and, of course, I said yes. I had something up my sleeve.

**Wednesday, December 20, 1899.**

All oxygen in the bunkroom had turned into smoke that night. Jack was in a corner naming off every newsie and participant to David, who wrote each name down on a piece of paper. The rest of the boys were playing two very intense poker games. It was then I realized that Race will use any excuse possible to get the boys to gamble with him. I sat on one of the bunks, trying to hide the fact that I adored a certain someone's failed attempts at a poker face. It looked more like a sad puppy straining to use the bathroom. The boys seemed to forget I existed, which worked in my favor. I tried to keep my feet at a whisper as I made my way to the corner, occasionally looking back to make sure none of the newsies noticed I was gone. They didn't. The only thing they noticed missing was their money.

"Jack," I began, somewhat hesitantly, "I need to ask a favor of you."

He looked up, his face still in concentration.

"Oh, hey there Aims. You can ask me as soon as me and Dave are done with this Christmas present thing. We're almost done."

I continued shakily, "Well, that's what I wanted to ask you about. The gift exchange. I think that, perhaps, you could, possibly, help me out with something, maybe." I wondered if he noticed how un-intelligent I sounded. Even if he didn't, there was no doubt David did.

All activity between the leader and his sidekick abruptly ended. They shared one of those looks that clearly said they knew something I didn't.

"What?"

They laughed.

"I'm serious-- what is it?"

"Well," David began diplomatically, "Jack and I are fairly sure we know what your favor is, but why don't you ask, and we'll see if we're right."

I sighed and sat down across from them. I was really hoping they weren't "fairly sure" it had to do with Mush. It _did_ have to do with Mush, but if they knew, then it meant I was not doing well at hiding my feelings. While surrounded by a bunch of males, this was not the best thing to do poorly.

"I was hoping that you could…" Jack cut me off.

"Please, Aims, Dave is not that pretty. You're asking _me_ a favor-- don't look at _him_."

I knew Jack didn't really care that I was not looking at him; he just wanted to torture me. He had this sneaky, evil glint in his eye. I was trying to avoid it, but I shifted my gaze anyway, hoping it would humor him enough to give into my request.

That was a mistake. The look on Jack's face clearly said he was holding in laughter. It made me extremely nervous, so much so that a wrench couldn't have opened my mouth. I stared at him incredulously, wondering what in the world was so funny.

"You," he said with a laugh, "You could always just _tell_ him, Aims, ya know that?"

So that was it. Jack Kelly knew. The leader of the Manhattan newsies knew I had feelings for Mush. That was it. My life was over. I was about to say something to Jack in rebuttal, but he must have sensed it and spoke up before I even had the chance.

"Don't even _try_ to deny it, Aimsley. And don't worry-- me and Dave ain't gonna tell nobody."

If there's one thing I had come to learn, it was that Jack Kelly told me the truth. Mush had filled me in many times before about what was revealed during the strike, and he learned his lesson. That, or he just wasn't clever enough to get one passed me. Either way, I knew I could trust his word. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh wait, I _did_ tell someone."

"Jack!" I whisper-yelled.

"Calm down, it was only Sarah. I couldn't understand why you wouldn't say anything directly to him about it. So I asked Sarah. She told me it was 'cause you'se afraid that… well, that things won't turn out how you want them to. Is this true?"

I slightly lowered my head. Of course it was true, and it was embarrassing to admit to. I'm so brave in many other aspects of life. But when it comes to Mush, why do I feel like I'm about to go on stage without knowing my songs and dances? I'll have to ask Medda.

Jack interpreted my silence correctly.

"Aimsley Cladsl. That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Where's your optimism? It's Christmastime!"

Optimism? I came to the conclusion that David had been giving Jack English lessons.

I grunted. "Don't give me the optimism speech, please Jack, I've heard it enough from Mush. I'm glad it won you the strike, but… I've already had so many things taken away from me, I don't want Mush to be next on the list, you know? You wouldn't understand anyway, you're a boy."

"You'se got no Christmas spirit, Aims," he said, shaking his head disapprovingly, "but speaking of lists…"

"I'm writing the last name right now," said David as he carefully crafted each letter, so there'd be no confusion as to whose name was written on the paper.

"Done. Now all that's left to do is tear of each name, fold them up, and drop them in the hat." He looked at his work with a proud smile.

"Good. You can do that while I talk to Aimsley about this 'favor'."

David rolled his eyes and went to work.

It's a good thing Jack mentioned my favor; I had forgotten why I went over there in the first place.

"So, you think you know what I was going to ask you for, eh Jacky-boy?"

"Of course. You want me to abuse my almighty leadership power and make sure you pick Mush's name out of the hat."

I was shocked. That was it. Bull's-eye.

"It's not abusing your powers, it's just… charity with a dash of dishonesty thrown in there for fun."

He laughed, but was still undecided.

"I think you should do it," mentioned David nonchalantly as he tore off another name. Jack looked at him with disbelief.

"_You'se_ telling me to give into such an immoral request?"

Immoral? English lessons.

"I don't see it that way. It's very moral. You're helping out a friend… ahem… family member in need. What's wrong with that? Everyone still gets a present; everyone's happy. You may be helping to bring two people together. What has more Christmas spirit than that?"

Jack thought for another moment.

"Alright, Aims, you win. But, if I do this, you have to do _me_ a favor."

"What would that be?"

"You _have_ to get Minnie to come to the Christmas party. If she doesn't go, Spot ain't gonna go. And even if he _does_ go, he'll be in a bad mood the whole time, and he won't buy us any drinks."

"Gee, I can really see how vital Spot's presence is," I said sarcastically, "but what's keeping Minnie from the party?"

"She's upset with Spot, said something about not wanting to see him so he doesn't ruin her Christmas."

I rolled me eyes. Those two were always at it.

"I'll see what I can do, Jack. I promise I'll try my hardest."

"Alright. David, put Mush's name at the very top of the pile. Aimsley, I'll have you choose first."

As we spit-shook-sealed the deal, David announced that all the names were in the hat. Only, he didn't tell just Jack and I, he announced it to the entire bunkroom.

In two seconds, we were mobbed by a bunch of boys all reaching for a piece of paper. Poor David never saw it coming.

"Hey guys! Wait. Stand back! One at a time. Ugh! Jack, say something!"

"Stand back, boys!" Jack shouted. He was swiftly obeyed. "Now, since Aimsley is the lady here, I say she picks first."

David extended the hat towards me, eyeing the boys sternly. I peeped in for a second to make sure I grabbed the right one. There it was-- the paper that held the most beautiful word one can utter. It sat right on top of the rest, it clearly stuck out. No wonder David was so adamant about keeping it away from the newsies. I reached my hand in and pretended to feel around for a few seconds before I gripped my special piece and pulled it out. I was about to open it up, just to make sure I got the right one, until I saw about forty pairs of eyes blinking at me excitedly. I couldn't open it in here. I didn't trust them, not with this matter. Not one bit.

"I'm going to the washroom to read this." I was answered by disappointed groans.

I was pleased to discover that all had gone as planned. I managed to keep in a squeal of excitement as I unfolded the paper and saw "MUSH" written on it in big, clear letters.

As I re-entered the bunkroom, I walked into two scenes. One contained Kid Blink trying to keep Race from stealing his paper by running around with it held above his head. The other scene, the one that made me freeze, involved Mush's hand in the gift exchange hat. My heart stopped beating during the moment he withdrew his hand, but it only lasted for barely a second-- he quickly stuck the paper in his pant pocket.

"Hey!" Racetrack and Kid Blink said simultaneously. Race continued on behalf of the duo, "Why'd you put that away so quickly? Ya didn't even read it!" He sounded more than disappointed. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought him to be a small child who'd just lost his best friend.

Mush laughed. "Yeah, why in the world would I want to keep me paper safe from you an' Blink? Don't worry, Race, I'll read it soon. When you'se nowhere near me."

The boys continued to draw names and try to steal each others' pickings. I had been paying very close attention to the drawing-- I hoped that the light would hit a paper just right so I could see my name through it. The next up was Skittery. I was scanning the area for a spot with lighting I'd find more favorable, when my knight in shining tatters approached me.

"So, Aims, who'd ya get?"

I wasn't sure if he was being serious, so I assumed he was joking. This is the safest assumption with the newsies.

"Mush. If you show me your paper, then I might _consider_ showing you mine."

He laughed lightly. It was enough to boost my confidence, even if only for a second.

"Hey, you heard 'bout Minnie an' Spot yet?"

"Yeah. Jack just told me. I'm surprised Minnie hasn't said anything about it yet. He must have done something _really_ bad this time."

"Are you gonna get her to come?" The extremely jealous and insecure side of me said: Why does _he_ care?

"I'll do my best, but usually when Minnie makes up her mind it's-- RACETRACK!"

Mush turned around just in time to smack Race's hand away from his pocket.

"Ouch! Ya bum!"

"_Me_? Race, you're lucky I didn't soak ya."

Mush wasn't actually mad. I think it's physically impossible for him to _get_ angry, but I love it when he pretends to be.

"Boys, it's late. I better get going before a bloody brawl starts. I don't feel like having to wash anything off my skirts."

They yelled their goodbyes as I walked myself to the door. What gentlemen.

**Saturday, December 23, 1899.**

"You're right, Mush. I wouldn't dare miss the gift exchange. I guess I can drag myself to a party for that." We share a mutual smile. I wish I could take a photograph of it.

Mush's face suddenly turns more serious, contemplative.

"I was just thinking'… have you talked to Minnie yet?"

Ugh. What is it with him and whether or not she goes to the party?

"No, not yet. She's been visiting her parents. She just got home last night, but she was so tired she just collapsed on her bed. All I had the chance to say was 'hello' and 'goodnight' before she was out cold."

"Geez."

"I know. But I'll still try my best to convince her to come to the Christmas party, which I guess now is the Christmas Eve party."

"Christmas Eve _Bash_," Race corrects me.

"Bash. Of course. Forgive me, oh mighty Racetrack."

"Eh. You're forgiven," he says not-so-graciously and then turns to Mush, "Come on, we gotta go. We got papes to sell, remember?" Race and Blink take off.

He sighs. Which turns into a yawn.

"Well, Aims, do your best with Minnie. I really hope she decides to come."

I know they're good acquaintances, but come _on_. I'm really tempted to 'forget' to tell Minnie about the Bash. But I don't dwell on that feeling. Minnie is the closest thing I have to a best friend, after all, and I want her to be at the party with me, too.

"Yeah, I hope she comes, too."

"Umm… if she don't come, you'll still be there, right?"

I must have misheard something. "What?"

"I mean, I want Minnie there, too, but… I was just worried that if she didn't come, you wouldn't neither. I know how close you two are an' everything. I thought you'd wanna be together Christmas Eve, ya know?"

I pause for a moment. I have to take this all in. So, the reason he's so interested in Minnie being there is because… he wants to make sure _I'm_ there? Am I just imagining things? I'm not going to inquire further-- I don't want to get my hopes up.

"Oh, I see Minnie all the time. I'd rather spend some time with… you."

There. I said it. I am so brave.

"...and all the newsies."

Ok, so maybe not so brave.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it." His face lights up. It's incredible. It's the most beautiful face I've ever seen. It never fails to amaze me every time I look at it. Beauty sleep must really work for him. Everyday he wakes up, he's more beautiful than the day before.

"I better head off. I'll need as much time to sell today as possible. Headline ain't that good."

"K. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Bye."

**That night.**

I had a hard time concentrating on my sewing today. I kept repeating what Mush said over and over again in my head: "I was just worried that if she didn't come, you wouldn't neither." I hope it means something along the lines of "I'm in love with you" or even just "I see you as more than a friend" would be nice. But he probably didn't mean anything at all by it. I can't get my hopes up. Some would call that pessimism; I just call it taking safety precautions.

Minnie finally walks into the basement-bunkroom.

"Hey Minnie. You fell asleep so quickly last night, I didn't get to ask you how your trip was."

Her dirty blonde curls bounce as she dives into her bed and sticks her face in her pillow.

"It was fine." I've learned to decipher her pillow-mumblings.

"How're your folks?"

"Still rich."

I shake my head. "I mean are things well with them? Do they feel ok and everything?"

She lifts her head and looks at me with her eyebrows raised. Her lips break out into a sweet smile, unbecoming of the words they utter.

"They don't have feelings, remember?" and her head plops back down into the pillow.

Minnie loves her parents, but a few years ago she came to some realizations about them and the life she was living. That's why she left. But talking about it isn't her favorite thing, so I change the subject.

"Jack told me something about you…"

"Oh?"

"Yeah. About Spot ruining your Christmas."

All I hear is an annoyed groan. She sits up.

"Aimsley, you know I love Spot. I do. I love him. But he's completely ruining the Christmas spirit for me."

"How's that?"

"Because he doesn't have any! Christmas is supposed to be the season of hope and _giving_. He asked me what I wanted for Christmas and I told him that all I wanted was for him to do something nice for someone else. Do you know what he did?"

"What?!" I exclaim with over-exaggerated interest. She rolls her eyes at me.

"He laughed hysterically and told me to stop joking. And then when I told him I was completely serious, he called it ridiculous and said that now was not the time to try and turn him into a charity. So I told him that I will not see him again until he does a good deed for someone else-- one that took thought and heart."

To anyone else, this may seem a bit crazy. But I've been told about her family. It makes perfect sense to me.

"You can't make one exception for the Christmas party?"

"No. I told you-- I don't want his dark cloud hanging over me on Christmas day."

"Minerva Marie Webb-Parker. I can't believe you. It's _Spot_. He _loves_ you. He just reacted that way because of the initial shock. If you give him a little push in the right direction, I know he'll pull through. For you. Besides, the party is now on Christmas Eve, so if he still hasn't performed his good deed, your Christmas Day can be Spot-less."

"You have such a way with words, Aimlsey. You say the right things in the most gorgeous of ways."

I snort. "If only I had the same luck while talking to Mush."

"How did that go by the way? Did Jack let you get him?"

"Yes. We were able to work something out." There is no way I'm going to let her in on our specific arrangements.

"Have you bought him something yet?"

I can't contain my happiness; my mouth involuntarily breaks out into a wide grin. I reach under my bed for a box. I place it delicately on my lap; it's not breakable, but I feel the need to treat it as such.

"Remember the really nice matching laces Mush bought that he was so proud that he saved up for?" I open the box. "I got him these so he can use them."

They're attractive shoes, I can't deny that. The detail is impeccable. The leather is of the highest quality. Minnie looks as if she's seen a ghost.

"Did you ask my parents for money?"

"Minnie, of course not. Although, it probably would have been easier. It took me a while to find a shoemaker who would accept my charm as payment. Lucky for me, that Mr. Hudgens man down by Irving Hall was willing to make a trade."

"You sold your charm?!" I shouldn't have mentioned that. I'm going to get an earful.

"Well, traded it, yes."

Minnie opens her mouth to speak but then shuts it. She opens it again and then shuts it again. Finally she speaks. I cringe.

"You know what? I'm not going to say anything. I bet I'm already giving you a lecture in your head at this very moment."

She is.

"Minnie, I had to. I need to show Mush how special he is to me."

"I wish you would just tell him."

"Me too. But the words never seem to come out right."

"I think that's _your_ fault, not the words'. Thatonly happens because you don't really want to tell him."

"Can you blame me? Nothing has ever worked out for me the way I wanted it to. And don't say I'm being pessimistic, I'm just being historically accurate."

"Well, it's up to you, but you know what I think."

"Only too well." I smirk at her. She sticks her tongue out at me.

As we get ready for bed, I can't help but wonder if getting the shoes maybe wasn't the best idea after all. I know he'll like them, but giving up my family's charm really hurt. Maybe that was my way of finally putting them to rest? But I still feel weird not having it with me all the time. It completed me. But Mush completes me, too. There is no easy answer.

The basement is pitch black. Minnie and I have already said our goodnights and blown out our candles. I'm extremely tired so my mind is wandering, but I try to keep my thoughts on Mush. One of the small handful of memories I have of my mother is her telling me that whatever I think about last before I fall asleep is what I will dream about. So I'm thinking about Mush. I want to have sweet dreams.

Just as I enter that state of almost-asleep-but-still-awake, I hear Minnie whisper my name.

"What is it?"

"You know what I just thought of?

"Hm?"

"How much I want to be there when you give Mush his Christmas present."

I smile to myself in the dark.

"The only way to do that is to come to the Christmas Eve Bash."

"Bash?"

"Don't ask."

"I want to, but I also don't want Spot to think that he won-- he still has to do something nice."

"Just give him the silent treatment the whole night. Ignore him and keep him away from you."

"I highly doubt any of those would actually happen." She sighs. "But… I guess I could go if you force me to."

"Consider yourself forced."

**December 24, 1899.**

I hate smoke. I really do. And I hate parties. And I'm definitely not feeling the Christmas spirit tonight.

Mush hasn't said a word to me all night. Granted, he's busy playing poker, but _still_.

I'm sitting at a table with Jack, Sarah, David, and Spot, who keeps buying us all drinks. Jack seems very happy about that.

Minnie wasn't having much luck avoiding Spot during the first ten minutes of the party, so she decided to try her hand at poker. She has absolutely no idea how to play, but I think Race is trying to teach her as they go. Her poor little face is scrunched up in desperate confusion. She'll figure it out. Eventually. Hopefully.

I can't help but quickly glance at my Adonis. He's doing his poker face I find so oddly comforting. I'm trying to not be obvious, but one quick glance just isn't enough.

Spot clears his throat rather loudly, so I turn my attention back to those at my table.

They're all staring at me with knowing looks. Spot is the first to break the silence.

"Ya know, Aims, it's pretty obvious what you'se looking at over at the poker table."

"Is it?" I frown.

"Yes. And if you ask me, I say he likes ya."

"I think so, too," says Sarah, with a kind smile.

"You know, too!"

"I hate to be the one to break it to you, but most of the people in this room know," David says almost apologetically.

"Do I make it _that_ obvious _all_ the time?" I direct the question mostly towards Sarah.

"Don't worry, Aimsley. Even if everyone else has figured it out, Mush is completely clueless."

So all this time, the boys knew. They knew, but they didn't bug me about it. Wow. They care more about me than I know, it seems.

"Speaking about being clueless," Spot chimes in, "I need your help. I can't think of a 'good deed' to do for Little Miss Minerva over there."

"If you're constantly looking, one will just pop up unexpectedly." This is something I have learned through experience, and it rings true every time I put it to the test. It sounds like something Mush would say; there's a lot of hope in it.

Jack, who has been watching the clock this entire time, suddenly jumps up from his seat and climbs onstage.

"Gift exchange time!!!"

All activities are put on pause as the newsies run as close to the stage as they get can. When all the newsies have come and are quiet and settled, Jack begins to speak.

"First, I would like to start by sayin' Merry Christmas to all you guys."

Roars of 'Merry Christmas' answer back.

"Now, something that don't happen a lot happened this year in the gift exchange. Two people got each other. I would like to have them open their present first. So, Mush and Aimsley, come to the front."

What? Mush picked _me_ out of the hat! This has to be fate. Maybe some things do work out in my favor after all.

All I hear are surprised cheers as Mush and I make our ways to the front of the crowd.

"Well this is exciting, isn't it?" he says.

"Yeah." He has no idea.

I hand him the box, neatly wrapped in whatever was laying around the factory. He hands me a box, only a smaller one, wrapped in-- what else?-- newspapers.

"Ok. Now when I say 'go' you both open you'se presents at the same time, alright? Ready? 1-2-3-GO!"

I can't tear the newspaper off fast enough. I have to know what Mush bought while he was thinking about me.

I open the smaller box so quickly that something falls out. I bend down to pick it up. And as I raise myself back to a normal standing position, I notice what it is Mush got for me: It's a chain. And it's gold. I inspect it more with my fingers-- this is real gold.

"Mush, this is so--"

"Aims, how did you--"

I apologize and invite him to continue.

"Aimsley, these are the shoes I never thought I'd be able to save up for. If you don't mind me asking, how in the world did you afford them?"

"I'm glad you like them. I knew you needed new shoes to go with your new laces and that this something you've always wanted to have, so I traded in that old charm I had over at Mr. Hudgens.

"But…Aims… that was special to you. You didn't have to do that."

"Oh, it was nothing. Really." I don't think I've convinced him. "I would also like to know how you bought this beautiful chain. It's absolutely gorgeous. And real gold. I mean, it must have cost a small fortune or two."

He looks kind of sullen.

"Well, um, it's funny, because I also traded for it. At the jewelry shop down the street. And, well, I kind of traded in my laces for it." He gave a light chuckle. "And what else is funny is I bought the chain…"

My eyes go wide. Oh.

"Mush, I'm so sorry! If I had only known you'd get me the chain, I never would have traded in my charm."

"You don't gotta apologize, Aims. I would have never traded in those laces if I'd known you'd be getting me these shoes."

It's silence. No one knows quite what to say. Mush and I set our gifts down on the nearest table. The final outcome is a bit disappointing, but the warmth I feel from knowing the thought Mush put into his gift for me makes up for all of it. It touches me so deeply; the unfortunate result just doesn't seem to matter a whole lot. Maybe this is what that 'Christmas spirit' they all speak of feels like.

Mush and I are staring at each other, not quite sure what the etiquette calls for. I think the ironic absurdity of what just took place finally hits us both and we begin to laugh uncontrollably. The entire room joins in; it relives all tension.

The laughing dies down as we make our way back to the front of the crowd. Mush turns to me.

"I still don't understand, though. You gave up your charm-- a piece of your family-- just to get me shoes. Why would you do something like that for me?"

I have two ways in which I can answer his question. One would be a lie; one would be the truth. This is my chance to finally tell him how I feel. I scan my audience until I catch Minnie's eyes-- they are clear about which answer she wants me to say. I don't know what it is. Maybe it has something to do with my newly-found Christmas spirit, maybe it's the atmosphere of this place, or maybe it's because Spot's bought me too many drinks, but I do know this: My entire body and soul feels like it can confess everything to Mush right now. There's a little part of my brain that says it isn't a good idea, but I don't _feel _it. It's Christmas. Everyone I care about in the whole world is surrounding me, and I can feel their support. I suddenly don't care if Mush doesn't return the exact same feelings as I have. Because of what has happened tonight, I know he cares for me. Deeply. For right now, that's enough. That's all that matters. Whatever happens, Mush will still be there for me. He'll be in my life. Everything will be alright. Optimism.

"Yes, that charm as a piece of my family. But you and the newsies are also my family, and I'd do anything for you guys. Yes, that charm was special to me, but I traded it for the shoes because…well… you're more special to me."

I think his eyes just got a little wider.

"You're one of the most amazing and kind-hearted people I've ever met. I've been holding it in for a while now, but I just can't do it anymore; you deserve to know how much I care about you. I love you. I think I'm falling in love with you."

Some gasps are heard among the newsies, from the ones who were convinced I'd never say a word. I look at Mush, awaiting a response.

He smiles. I'm captivated.

"Aimsley, I-- I don't know what to say. I could never say things like you do-- ya know, pretty an' all. But I can say that I feel the same."

I think I'm dreaming. What did he just say? My suspicions are confirmed when I hear some very happy "woo's" from our audience. Mush is falling in love with me, too. I might faint. Any second now.

Mush laughs a little and continues. "And I think I should tell you all as well as Aimsley that I cheated a little bit. Ya see, I asked Jack to let me have Aims for the gift exchange. I'm very grateful that he said yes."

Racetrack is visibly bewildered by this revelation.

"But…wait… you drew from the hat."

"No I didn't, but I pretended to. Why do you think my hand went to my pocket so fast?"

"Well Mush," I confess, "I must admit that I did the same. Only I actually picked out a paper. We just made sure I picked out your's."

The rest of the gift exchange was rather uneventful. But what could compare with what took place between Mush and I? When the dance floor opened for business, Mush was quick to ask me to dance, saying he wanted to make sure we had our first dance as a couple on the night we got together. I lay my head on his chest. I can feel his heartbeat. It's so soothing. I'm in perfect relaxation bliss.

Until Spot enters.

I guess no one had noticed Spot was missing until now. When did he leave?

"Alright! Quit your dancing! Everybody better listen up and pay attention-- especially you, Minnie-- because Spot Conlon is about to do a good deed."

He makes his way to Mush and I on the dance floor, and a crowd quickly gathers.

"When none of you bums was looking, I swiped the shoes and the chain off the table over there."

"Spot!" scolds Minnie.

"Just wait, Minnie, you'll be happy in a second. Anyway, I took them to the two stores you two said you got them at and I traded them back for the charm and the laces. And I made these."

He opens his hand to reveal two shoelaces with their ends tied together. And hanging on the bottom of one of them is my charm.

"I thought it'd be good for the both of you. Mush can wear this plain shoelace around his neck, and Aimsley can wear the matching one-- kind of romantic-like, ya know? And then Aims can still have this piece of her family with her all the time. An' it can represent your old family _and_ your newsies family. That's all. I hope you like it."

Mush and I thank Spot and put on our respective shoelaces. I feel complete again. And more complete than before.

"Oh Spot!" squeals Minnie, "That's the kindest, sweetest, most romantic thing you have ever done!" They share a kiss.

I thought tonight was going to be miserable, but it ended up being the best night of my life. Tomorrow will be Christmas. And it will be the first merry one I've had in a long while. There is hope. Everything will be wonderful, if I allow it to be. Optimism. And Mush is my inspiration.

_(Thanks for reading! This was done fairly quickly, but I hoped you enjoyed it anyhow!)_


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